


Media Frenzy

by Illnoira666 (Erin330)



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Escort Sebastian Vettel, Escort Service, Established Relationship, F1 Driver Mark Webber, M/M, Prostitution, Relationship Reveal, Secret Relationship, media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25315552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erin330/pseuds/Illnoira666
Summary: Sebastian Vettel is an elite escort, Mark Webber is a star Formula One driver.They shouldn't be together, but they are. During the 2010 season, people find out about their relationship. And then the media finds out, and rumours start flying.
Relationships: Sebastian Vettel/Mark Webber
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	Media Frenzy

_[Australia 2010] – Ann Neal_

Ann had been Mark’s manager for a long time now and had known about Mark’s homosexuality for quite a chunk of time. She’d been his advisor, his confidant, a friend even. But his adventures with men were something the Aussie from Queanbeyan never spoke about, it was something he’d rather keep private.

Until the wrist bruises happened, that is.

“Uh… handcuffs were a bit too tight last night.” Mark had told her. “I’ll tell Seb that next time.”

The woman smiled. “Seb huh? You two serious or is this a fling?”

The F1 driver sighed and scratched the back of his head. “It’s uhm… _pretty_ serious.”

“I’m happy for you Mark.” the manager said with a smile. “I’ll be just around the corner if you need me.”

“I know that Ann. Thanks anyway.” Webber said as she left.

Neal did go into the direction of her room in the Melbourne hotel, which was closer to the lift. When she was going to open up her room door, the lift opened up and a young blonde-haired man dressed in tight black pants and a see-through top with netting stepped out.

The PR-manager raised an eyebrow at the young man’s appearance, pretty clearly identifying him as a prostitute. There was literally no way around the suggestive clothing.

The blonde made his way to a room, key card in hand, and he stopped right in front of _Mark’s_ room. And it _wasn’t_ the wrong room, because the card worked.

 _‘Wait, Mark hired a prostitute? He just said he was in a relationship!’_ Ann made her way back to the door but heard their voices.

“Sebi, darling, I missed you!” it was clearly Mark who said that.

“I’ve missed you too, my love.” the other voice, the prostitute, had a bit of a Central European accent. “I’m sorry I’m late, my last client was a bit of an ass.”

“Aren’t they all? Do you want some orange juice perhaps?”

“That would be lovely, Mark.”

The manager kinda froze after she realized what the truth was.

Mark was _in a relationship with_ a prostitute.

That wouldn’t go well with the public. _Not_. _At_. _All_.

She had to speak to Mark about this. Perhaps after the Asian fly away races, when they were back in Great Britain and things weren’t so tense and everything. But she’d also need time. Because, how do you approach such a subject that’s both private and sensitive?

* * *

_[Canada, 2010] – Ann Neal_

Ann approached it in Canada, after the free practise sessions on the Friday. “Mark, I need to talk to you.”

Mark was quietly alarmed by the serious tone she said it on. “Yes?”

The manager sighed. “I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m gonna keep it short: I’ve seen Seb.”

The driver paled. Clearly, he hadn’t wanted her to know yet.

“Do you understand how much hassle you’ll get if this gets out?” the woman asked.

“Yes, Ann, I know.” Webber sighed. “How much did you see?”

“I’ve only seen him dressed yet, if that’s something you’re worried about.” Neal told him. “But the way he’s dressed makes it quite visible what he does for a living on a daily basis.”

The Aussie male looked at the ground. “You’re not chastising me about it?”

“I’ve got no right to do that Mark, what you do and who you love is your thing.” Ann said. “I’m just warning you that not everyone will see it like that.”

Mark nodded. “I know. I knew that when I fell in love with him and he told me he was going to become an elite prostitute.”

Neal frowned. “How long have you two been together?”

“Couple years now. I mean, we were already flirting five years ago, before Seb turned eighteen, but I guess that doesn’t count as ‘being together’.” the driver told. “So… almost four years of being boyfriends and having an active romantical relationship.”

“You _flirted_ with a _minor_?”

“What? No one said _flirting_ is against the law, nor is _dating_. I just couldn’t have sex with Seb until he was eighteen, and we _did_ wait.”

The PR-manager shook her head. “People will _still_ call you a sexual predator, especially because your _ten_ years older than him.”

Webber just shrugged. “So what? So, I’m a sexual predator to the media, he’s a whore and my boy toy… and heterosexual couple’s barely get this shit. I wish we didn’t have to sneak around and always watch out, that we didn’t need to be afraid that the wrong people see us together. Gosh, I haven’t even told my closest friends about Seb.”

Neal gave him a sympathetic look. “But you do want to?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah. I even want to tell the world that I’m gay… I don’t want to have to hide this.”

“I can only imagine how it is.”

* * *

_[Valencia, 2010] – Jenson Button_

The Brit was relaxing in the lounge of the Caro Hotel in Valencia, just enjoying the peace he had after the buzzing media day that was the Thursday before the race. He was sipping a Jägermeister when he saw a _very_ young-looking man in a rather peculiar state of dress enter through the front door with a small black roller case.

His dark coloured pants clung very snugly to his ass and hips and the white buttoned shirt really accentuated his lean frame. It wasn’t trashy, just more professional.

Jenson shrugged. Prostitution was legal and regulated in most parts of Europe, and professional sex workers were always a much better option for the elite then finding a dubious brothel in the city and risk STD’s from those places since not every prostitute in those brothels got tested. Professionals had to, or they’d risk losing their licence.

As the professional got his key card at the check-in, he dropped a couple things that looked like business cards from his handbag in the bowls at the register.

 _‘Yup, professional.’_ Button thought before drowning the last of his glass and went up to his room on the 5th floor where all the McLaren staff were housed for the weekend.

By accident, he found himself in the same lift as the young prostitute. So, he found himself looking at him.

The young man had soft looking blonde hair, big blue eyes, pale skin, full pink lips, long and deep black eyelashes, a cute little nose and lovely rosy cheeks.

Had he been a woman instead, the Brit from Frome probably would’ve tried to get some or at least flirted after confirming they were not a minor since that was something you _could_ get in trouble for, because the blonde was very much attractive. No wonder people were hiring this man.

Jenson looked to the lights on the button panel. Only the number 5 was lit up. “Which floor do you need to be on?” he politely asked.

“Seven.” the prostitute replied.

So, the F1 driver pressed the button for the 7th floor.

Nothing was said between them as the lift went up, or when it opened on Jenson’s floor.

The Brit just went to his room and flopped down on his bed. _‘Wait, wasn’t the seventh floor the Red Bull floor? Ah, well, doesn’t matter.’_ and he got up to find his swimming trunks.

The hotel’s swimming pool was on the 1st floor, just above the lounge.

It was still quite empty, just a couple PR-ladies from one of the teams and Mark were there.

Mark was relaxing in the bubble bath, arms leaning on the edge and head thrown back, eyes closed.

Button was very happy for his friend, who had a pretty successful year up till now. Unlike him, as his McLaren behaved super-duper weird. He slid into one of the deeper pools, near the bubble bath.

As the PR-ladies left, the young prostitute came into the bathing area.

The McLaren driver didn’t think much of it, nor did he think anything when the young man slipped into the bubble bath. That’s until he heard a groan. He turned his head to find the young blonde curled up against Mark’s right side.

“Seriously, some older men are so creepy. And I mean the _old_ old men.” the prostitute seemed to have a Central European accent. He went with his hand through Mark’s curls. “You know, whose hair’s greying?”

The Red Bull driver hummed before straightening his neck and opening his eyes, looking at the man curled up to his side. “I can’t blame them for staring, cause I’m guilty as fuck.”

The blonde went to sit in Webber’s lap and wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck. “It’s not the staring itself, it’s the way they stare. Like I’m a piece of meat waiting to be eaten, and when they’ve got grey hair… it’s way creepier than if you would do it. Then again, you’re my _boyfriend_ , you’re _allowed_ to stare at my ass like that.”

 _‘Mark’s got a younger_ boyfriend _?’_ Jenson asked himself with a frown as he kept swimming his laps in the pool. _‘No wonder he’s so quick this year. Probably getting laid a lot.’_

Mark’s boyfriend had a wolfish look on his face while Mark rolled his eyes. “Seb, we’re in _public_. Literally _anyone_ who’s in this hotel at the moment could just walk in!” the brunet hissed.

“That’s the fun of it, _mein Schatz_.” the younger man, apparently named Seb, purred. “Just be silent.” and he disappeared under water. As he came back up, he threw aside two pairs of swimming shorts.

 _‘Yup. Getting laid.’_ the Brit thought as the German speaker sat into the RB driver’s lap again. He thought he should get out of there, give the two of them the privacy they deserve, but each and every exit could be seen from the bubble bath, so he decided against leaving and just staying out of sight as much as possible.

Didn’t save him though from getting an eyeful of seeing the two kissing while the blonde bounced on the Aussie’s lap, on the Aussie’s cock. And it wasn’t very PG-rated… the kissing was very much heated with open mouths and tongue, hands were sliding over wet chests, backs and necks as if they’d been separated for too long and needed the affirmation of love and affection from their partner.

As the pair collapsed into each other backward against the edge of the bubble bath, that was starting up again after the water had been still during their little session, Button could hear they were done.

Mark’s tanned arms wrapped around Seb’s pale waist. “I love you, my darling.”

“I know.” the younger man said, kissing his lover. “I love you too.”

And the two enjoyed their embrace, and the Brit from Somerset really felt like invading into the privacy of his friend and colleague.

* * *

The next time Jenson saw Mark’s boyfriend, it was at the post FP2 party.

But the young man wasn’t with Mark. Instead, he was the eye candy on the arm of team principal John Booth from Virgin Racing.

If Button hadn’t seen the blonde being so passionate with Mark, he probably wouldn’t have paid any attention to the guy named Seb. His eyes spotted Mark on the other side of the room with his teammate and Ann talking to a couple sponsors, not at all looking into the direction of his boyfriend. It was a bit weird for him, knowing the two of them were doing the horizontal tango together but no one around him did.

* * *

The Saturday night after qualifying, Jenson took his beloved Jessica to the hotel restaurant.

Everyone staying there during the F1 weekend was high profile and cameras weren’t allowed in, not even phones. So that meant that every guest could enjoy the dinner without the fear of being photographed.

As he and Jessica were seated in one of the more secluded areas of the restaurant, the Brit saw Mark and his boyfriend too.

They were off to a far corner and only visible from his table. They were having dinner like every other dating couple that Jenson had ever seen; just being ugly cute and sharing their meals in the candlelight.

* * *

After the Sunday, when people were leaving, Jenson went through the business cards in the bowls at the reception. He made it look like he was bored and needed something to do.

There were more cards of professional prostitutes, but their names were all female. There was only one male name among them: Sebastian Vettel.

The calling card was a simple off white with indigo coloured text in calligraphy and golden edges.

* * *

_Sebastian Vettel_

_+49688547805_

[ _sebnvettel@gmail.com_ ](mailto:sebnvettel@gmail.com)

_EliteEscort/S.Vettel_ _.org_

* * *

There was a _website_ too.

In his curiosity, the Brit whipped out his phone and searched for that website.

It didn’t _totally_ look like the person in the pictures was a prostitute. Yes, they were sexually themed, but several pictures were painting replicas like the _Venus_ by Henri Pierre Picou, Manet’s _Olympia_ , and Henrietta Rea’s _Venus Enthroned_.

On others he was naked on a bed or on the ground with some parts of his body covered in rose petals, or dressed in some leather BDSM outfit, or dressed up like a harem woman from the Ottoman empire… all while looking at that camera with lust in his eyes.

But each of the pictures was professionally taken, whether it was in a studio or just a professional camera with good lighting… this was an investment.

As Button was scrolling through the pictures, he stumbled upon one that froze him in place.

Vettel was bend over the hood of a classic Porsche car, a 911, _Mark’s_ classic Porsche, with only the thin flimsy fabric of a cheap version of the _Australian_ flag draped over his ass.

Jenson would recognize that car everywhere, with or without the number plates as he knew it was Mark’s pride and joy. _‘This is getting crazier by the minute.’_

* * *

_[Great Britain, 2010] – Lewis Hamilton_

Silverstone was always a place where the drivers let their careful guards down. It was a place many called home, and everyone was familiar.

Lewis was looking out the window of his McLaren trailer, in the direction of his hometown of Stevenage. He smiled. Silverstone was a special place for him; it’s where he saw his first F1 race, when he knew he wanted to be in one of those cars one day. It was a good memory.

Today, the race had been won by Mark Webber, his rival in one of the indigo Red Bull cars while he had finished right behind the Australian. His former karting teammate Nico Rosberg had finished 3rd and all 3 of them had been very happy on the podium.

As he was looking out of that window, he spotted Mark walking through the paddock.

Well, not actually just walking… _sneaking_ was the better word. He was constantly watching if someone was around and saw him going into that direction. He was walking towards a certain part of the paddock where drivers usually had no business, which made the half-black driver frown.

 _‘What the hell’s he gonna do?’_ and Hamilton went after him.

The chase through the paddock saw the 2008 World Champion following the Red Bull driver to a very remote part of the trailer park, away from everyone’s sight.

There was already a man with blonde hair waiting, dressed in all black. This man took the race winner’s hand and dragged him into an alleyway between a couple trucks.

Lewis frowned and decided to go closer and take a sneak peek, since he’d heard about drivers getting illegal substances that couldn’t be detected from shady people all the time.

But it wasn’t that. No, it was something totally different.

The blonde-haired man was on the ground, on his knees, with his hands-on Webber’s hips and his face in Webber’s crotch _servicing_ the F1 driver by bobbing up and down Webber’s shaft.

The Red Bull driver’s head was thrown back against the truck, an expression of complete ecstasy on his face with his mouth open and one hand pulling the blonde’s hair.

Hamilton turned his head away from the scene and scurried back to his trailer. He didn’t need to know about one of his rivals hiring a male whore to get off in a semi-public place in the paddock.

* * *

_[Germany, 2010] - Christian Horner_

Christian was briefing Mark in his hotel room, since Mark had gone back there almost straight after the race. He hadn’t even gone to the party the team had thrown.

The third-place champagne bottle was on the table near the door.

“So, you understand everything?” the team principal asked his driver.

“Crystal, Christian.” Webber replied. Then, he looked at the clock that said 5pm.

The Briton smiled. “You’re expecting someone?”

“A German friend of mine, but he’s got some work to do first.”

“Have a nice celebration then. You can call me when you need me.” and Horner left the room.

* * *

Christian’s room was in the building across from his drivers, his window facing Mark’s and Bourdais’s was next to that on the left side. It allowed him to keep an eye on both of them, which had turned out to be a good thing after a stalker had broken into Bourdais’s hotel room at the Japanese Grand Prix last year.

Stalkers were _really_ annoying and plain _shitty_ to deal with because of their obsessive nature. Every driver had stalkers, but most of them kept it online, there were only a few who went _that_ far.

The Red Bull team principal was about to turn away from his window observation when Mark opened up his door to let in the friend he’d been talking about. He almost spit out his drink that was simple orange juice as he saw the friend.

The friend was a young, scarcely clad, blue eyed, blonde man with a small, lean figure. His clothing, hugging his figure a bit _too_ nicely for comfort, suggested a rather… _sexual_ occupation.

The young blonde hugged Webber in a way that most would dismiss as a normal hug, but Horner couldn’t think anything but that his driver was going to have sex with this man.

The brunet knew about his driver’s homosexuality, it wasn’t really a secret inside the team. Hell, even Marko knew and dismissed it as long as there were results and Dietrich just didn’t give a fuck.

Perhaps this was Mark’s way of getting laid, hiring professional sex workers for a night to get things out of his system and rejuvenate himself a bit for a while. It was _not_ illegal, as long as the workers were above 18 years old and got checked on STD’s.

Christian was about to draw the curtain to give his driver some privacy during his visit, then he saw that Mark poured his companion a glass of the podium champagne and retrieved chocolate covered strawberries from the mini fridge. _He froze_. Those things were usually reserved for someone who meant _more_ than just a night of having casual sex and being gone the next morning.

The pair clicked their glasses together while sitting on the edge of the bed and sitting close, to which the young blonde said something that made the driver blush, look to the ground and mutter something.

They drank their glass of champagne, gazed in each other’s eyes and shared a hug.

 _‘Yup, this is more than hiring a sex worker.’_ the team principal thought.

If Mark _really_ was in a relationship with this man, it probably wouldn’t go over so well if this leaked into the media if that man was _indeed_ what the team boss thought he was. Chris could be wrong; the man could have clothed himself like that just for Mark. No one really talks about fetishes unless you’re their long-term partner, and that’s exactly what this could be: just a fetish.

The pair was now even feeding each other the strawberries and sharing intimate kisses. Clothes were also being removed, at a rather slow pace.

Horner drew the curtain before he’d see something he’d rather not see.

* * *

_[Japan, 2010] – Sebastien Bourdais_

The Constructor’s Championship was won, but the Driver’s was still undecided.

The Frenchman was secured in third place, in front of Lewis Hamilton and Jenson Button, for that championship while his teammate was going head to head with Fernando Alonso. Things were going to go down in either Sao Paulo or Abu Dhabi this year.

Sebastien had showered and was lying in bed, attempting to fall asleep. But it seems his teammate had whole different plans for that night.

The first thing he heard were two male voices. One was clearly Mark’s and the other belonged to a companion. The companion was talking _dirty_ , about how he wanted Mark to take him.

Bourdais pulled a face. This was something he didn’t need to hear. Not that he minded his teammate was gay… but he just didn’t want to hear _anyone_ having sex. Hell, he wouldn’t want Mark to hear if he himself was having sex with his own wife!

The earplugs worked for a while… until the screaming started.

The man Webber was having sex with was _loud_ and his voice was high in pitch. He was yelling _‘yes’_ , _‘more’_ , _‘harder’_ and talking about how good his cock felt.

The French driver pulled a pillow over his head as well as the covers to block the sounds out.

And _finally_ , it was enough.

* * *

In the morning, he went to the bathroom in the hall because he didn’t have toilet paper anymore.

As Sebastien opened the door to go back to his room, Mark’s door opened up and his teammate was letting out his companion of last night. He closed the door back but kept it slightly open just to see.

Mark’s companion of the night had a beautiful mop of curly blonde hair, a lean build with fairly feminine hips, bright blue eyes and looked very young.

Bourdais pulled a face, again, sincerely hoping the kid wasn’t underage. Because if he was, Mark could be in big trouble if he was found out having sex with minors.

The race winner was leaning against the doorframe, one hand in the pocket of his jeans and his muscled chest visible due to the fact his shirt was unbuttoned. He was smirking.

The blonde zipped his bag close and kissed Webber passionately on the lips. “I’m going to feel you for a week. Thank you, my love, for reclaiming my body.”

The second Red Bull driver frowned. _‘Love?’_

Mark’s free hand slipped around the smaller man’s waist. “You ask, I deliver.”

“Of course.” there was a smile on the younger man’s lips. “It’s not hard for you to give me rough sex with a body like this and a cock like that.”

“You like it, darling.” Webber said, kissing his companion’s lips softly. “When will I see you again?”

“I’ll be there when you win the Championship.” the blonde told. “I promise.”

Sebastien’s eyes went wide as he saw a predatory grin on his teammate’s face.

 _‘I hope this kid’s at least 18!’_ the French driver thought.

The pair shared a lingering longing look before the younger man left for the lift and Webber went back into his room, closing the door.

Bourdais then sneaked back to his own room.

* * *

_[Brazil, 2010] – Christian Horner_

The next time Christian saw the young blonde man again, was in Brazil that year, after Mark won the Championship at the cost of Fernando Alonso.

Mark had pressed the young blonde, whose name was still unknown to the team principal, against one of the Red Bull trucks and was kissing him _hard_. All that pent-up adrenaline would go into a wild sex night.

As the pair parted to breathe, the blonde said: “Let’s find a bed, my Champion, and let me give you what you deserve tonight.”

 _‘Yup, wild night.’_ Horner quickly walked on to find Ann at the energy station, typing away on her laptop.

“Did you know Mark was seeing someone?” the Briton asked.

The Australian woman looked up and nodded. “Since Australia, really. Mark’s not good at hiding the bruising from a peculiar kinky night. Since when did you know?”

“I saw things after the race in Germany.” Chris replied. “Sharing strawberries dipped in chocolate and sipping the champagne together. How old’s that kid?”

“Apparently, he turned twenty-three last summer.”

When Christian heard that, he sighed out of relief. “Well, at least that’s good to know. No going to court then for sexually exploiting a minor. You have a name too?”

Mark’s manager nodded. “Sebastian Vettel, he’s from Germany. He’s a freelance high-class prostitute. Apparently, Mark met him before he became a prostitute.”

“That’s something we can work with if this gets out, right?”

Ann nodded. “Though Mark does want to come out. Now he’s a World Champion, respectable F1 media isn’t going to pin his shitty results on his homosexuality. Don’t know about the tabloids though.”

The team principal wove that away. “Tabloids are tabloids, it’s mostly lies and the people who read them too much are usually trash themselves. Though I suppose Ecclestone would love the positive publicity of having a gay driver in the sport.”

Neal laughed. “I can imagine. How about we drink to our champion?”

“Good idea.”

* * *

Christian saw the young blonde, Sebastian Vettel, leave the paddock the next morning with a dazed and happy look in his blue eyes and an unmistakable limp from being fucked in the ass.

It was clear that the pair loved each other quite a lot. There was no way they could be together for that long with each of their respectable professions ripping them away from each other if they didn’t love each other so much.

* * *

_[Winter Break, Australia] – Random photographer_

Journalists and photographers were always hunting for the juiciest stories to tell, as that was their way to make money. Of course, people hate them for exposing their secrets, especially high-profile people. And what was hotter property at the moment than current home hero and Formula 1 World Champion Mark Webber?

It was near dinner time and the Aussie photographer was still sitting in a tree overlooking the summer house of Mark Alan Webber, where he lived alone with his dogs.

That day, only Alan and Diane Webber had visited their son, celebrating him winning the championship.

There were some nice pictures from that, but it would never be top selling. They were too normal, nothing juicy about them as it was just family. No secret lover the world hadn’t seen.

Then suddenly, a silver Aston Martin car, a DB9-model, came on the driveway and parked next to Webber’s Porsche 911 car.

The photographer frowned.

When the driver of the car got out, the frown disappeared and instead his eyes started gloating. Yes, this could turn out to be as juicy as hell… since the driver in question was a very well-known escort for members of the elite and others with high status.

But the escort didn’t ring the doorbell. Instead, he opened it for himself with a key hanging on his keyring. He was temporarily out of sight, but he came back into sight in the kitchen where the World Champion had been preparing _two_ plates.

Webber turned around and greeted the escort with a kiss on the lips.

The escort, Sebastian Vettel, threw his arms around the neck of the Australian F1 driver, pulling him closer.

There was no groping, but the photographer still took pictures of the scene he saw happening through the kitchen window.

The two talked, arms still wrapped around each other. Neither made a start at removing the other’s or their own clothes, they were just looking into the other’s eyes and talking.

That was until Vettel nicked a tomato from one of the plates and popped it in his mouth while giving the World Champion a rather naughty look. He looked ready to take it further.

Then, the two disappeared out of sight for a while and the photographer outside checked his shots of the kitchen scene.

He’d captured a nice shot of the pair kissing, as well as one of the pair staring into each other’s eyes. But before he could study the pictures better, the men had appeared in camera view again… in Webber’s _bedroom_.

They’d taken their shirts off somewhere else and were now fumbling with the fly of the other’s pants, which was also a nice shot for the Aussie outside.

But everything that came next… was nothing the photographer had expected to see.

He’d expected some BDSM, some hard and rough sex, some cock sucking, something with sex toys, things that came straight from porno films… but not _this_.

Yes, Vettel _had_ sucked Webber’s… pretty large cock like the expert he’d be because of his job.

But once on the bed, the pair kissed and touched and fucked… _no_ , _made love_ , like they were lovers. It was slow, sensual, erotic and so _vanilla_.

Perhaps the World Champion liked it that way, pretending the prostitutes he hired to have his pleasure with were more than that, pretending they were his lover or boyfriend or husband who’d just come home and wanted to make love to them after a hard day of work and affirm their relationship.

Usually men hired prostitutes to do with them what they wouldn’t do to their partners, which was quite often the heavy BDSM stuff. To act out fantasies.

The World Champion was holding Vettel tightly at his hips, staring at the man he just had sex with. It looked so personal, so intimate. It was perfect for the pictures.

There were some more kisses shared between the pair before they both left the bed.

The photographer expected Vettel to leave like he did with all his clients who hired him for some time.

But he didn’t. The escort had _dinner_ with Webber. And it even looked like a romantic dinner.

And instead, the escort wasn’t wearing the seductive clothes anymore, but one of Webber’s Red Bull sweaters that was at least three sizes too big for him and just a pair of jeans that fitted just fine but didn’t scream ‘escort’. It screamed ‘boyfriend’.

The two men were talking over dinner, the blonde prostitute telling some story that made the Aussie grin.

It looked like a casual date at home. They even _held hands_.

Another car turned onto the driveway.

But this time, the driver was a woman and could be identified as the World Champion’s sister.

The woman had her children with her, who hugged their uncle the moment Webber opened the door to welcome his family into his house.

Webber’s sister wasn’t even fazed as she saw Vettel, she even hugged him tightly, as if she was used to see the escort with her brother. Even the children were unfazed.

Everything continued in the large back garden, and the photographer had to be very careful not to drop anything as he had to climb pretty high into a tree to see what was going on. He couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but he wasn’t interested in that.

No, he was interested in how Vettel was curled up against last season’s World Champion.

The escort was plastered to Webber’s side, head on the much older man’s shoulder and holding Webber’s left hand while Webber’s right arm was wrapped around the young escort’s shoulders. But he wasn’t just eye-candy, he actually talked with Webber’s sister and her children.

Then, the F1 driver turned to Vettel and said something to him, to which the German escort nodded and went back into the house.

The elite escort didn’t leave though, he came back with drinks for Webber’s sister and her children.

The photographer hidden in the trees shot a couple pictures of the scene, which was Vettel handing out the drinks to the Champion’s nieces and nephew. It was… domesticated, as if this very moment was an almost daily occurrence.

There was more going on than the Australian hidden in the trees could see right now. But it would be up to the journalists to figure that one out, he’d just supply them with pictures of the pair.

* * *

_[Winter Break] – David Coulthard_

It was during a random Wednesday that Webber’s former teammate David Coulthard opened his phone only to have been spammed with pictures and links to tabloid articles… about the older Red Bull driver’s private life.

Mark was being called a pimp, that he probably had multiple victims and that Seb Vettel was only one of many young men being used by the F1 driver. That deep down that tough Aussie Grit persona there was a dark side. That there was abuse of power.

There was also an article that stated Webber had probably fucked a couple higher-ups to get the better parts and thus win the Championship.

Then there were journalists that stated that no respectable man like Webber should ever associate let alone have any type of relationship to a man of Vettel’s standard, who was apparently a very much wanted escort in the world of the rich due to his appearance.

Each of the articles had their own pictures. Some were taken through windows, others in a garden.

As quickly as he could, DC dialled the number of his former teammate, hoping he’d pick up despite being thousands of kilometres away in Australia.

 _“David?”_ Mark said as he picked up his cell. _“Why are you calling at this time?”_

“I’m so sorry Mark, if I’ve woken you up… but do you know what’s flying around the internet about you?”

There was a groan on the other side of the line. _“Yeah. Saw it yesterday. You calling as media or friend?”_

“Friend.” the Scot immediately replied. “You know I’m not like that?”

_“Had to know for sure. I don’t want to send the legal team after ya, mate.”_

David hummed. He did understand. “Tell me, what’s the truth and what’s a lie?”

Webber sighed on the other side. _“Have you seen pictures?”_

“Yes.”

 _“Well, that cute young blonde is my boyfriend.”_ the Aussie replied. _“Don’t worry, he’s twenty-three.”_

The presentator for the BBC sighed in relief at that. The blonde had looked _very_ young, almost like a minor, while dressed in Mark’s sweater that was oversized for his much smaller frame, and in the sun, he looked _very_ innocent.

 _“Anything else?”_ Mark asked.

“Is your boyfriend really an escort?”

There was another sigh. _“Yes.”_

“Is the sex any good?”

 _“Oh, yes, it is.”_ it wasn’t Mark, but a softer male voice.

_“Seb!”_

_“But Liebling, it’s true.”_

DC just laughed at hearing the couple, they did already sound like they were married.

 _“Sorry you had to hear that.”_ Webber said.

Coulthard just shook his head. “I don’t mind. How long have you been together?”

_“Pfff, let’s see… when Seb was about to turn nineteen. So… that’s four and a half years now.”_

“Pretty steady then?”

A hum could be heard. _“Very. And now we’ve been outed… I’ve been thinking about getting married before the season starts.”_

The Scot was beaming. “Oh God, Mark! That would be amazing.”

_“Yeah. And I’m dragging Jenson and Kimi in as witnesses. You could come too, if you want.”_

“I’d be honoured.” David said.

_“Nice. I’ll text you when I know the place and date.”_

* * *

_[Winter Break] – Sebastian Vettel_

Seb was scrolling through the articles based on the photos some photographer took of them while in the privacy of Mark’s summer house in Australia. He was sad. This wasn’t the way they’d wanted to come out to the public, especially because of his own occupation.

Being an escort didn’t make his private life any easier, as he could never casually talk about it to friends.

Nobody understood, not even his family, who were the very reason why he even became an escort.

Mark had been the one to support him throughout, understood that this was what he wanted to do. He had even advised him to become an elite escort, a total professional, and not a cheap whore.

It was also Mark who’d taken Seb’s virginity on his 18th birthday, something the young German had planned on doing since Mark was the man he’d fallen in love with and there was no way that Mark would let him give his virginity to a random man who payed to have sex with him.

The Aussie was old-fashioned like that.

“You shouldn’t be reading that trash.” the dark-haired man stated, taking away the younger man’s phone.

“I’m so sorry Mark.” Vettel said.

The 34-year-old raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For ruining your reputation like this.” the blonde said. “Oh god, the ones who call you my pimp… they’re _brutal_! They’re saying you forced me to lay with your colleagues, to steal information from you… that you’re extorting me and taking advantage of my youthfulness, naivety and beauty.”

Mark snorted. “If anyone is taking advantage of your youthfulness and beauty, it’s you.”

“Why?” the escort asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because you’ve got me under your spell.” the racing driver replied, licking his lips before kissing his boyfriend. “And without a doubt, you’ve got many more men pining after you.”

The German purred. “Good thing you’re going to put a ring on my finger then.”

“Definitely. Everybody will know your heart is mine, no matter who takes your body.”

Sebastian wrapped his arms around his lover and fiancé. Mark had already put a platinum ring with a pretty large rock on his left hand, and he couldn’t wait for the golden wedding band to join it. “You don’t just own my heart, mein Schatz. You own _all_ of me.”

* * *

_[Winter Testing] – Fernando Alonso_

Brown eyes went wide as Alonso read the accusations.

Some of them were extremely harsh and just the rumours alone might be enough to damage Mark’s reputation forever.

Especially the one about him leading a double life. It stated that the Aussie Grit persona Mark portrayed was just that, a media façade to throw everyone off of his true nature which included the abuse of the young and vulnerable and taking advantage of his charming nature.

Fernando knew Mark could be violent when angry, he’d seen it many times in their pre-Formula 1 days. The Aussie sometimes liked to punch a wall or throw his shoe at it. But never ever would the Spaniard think that Mark would hit a person, he wasn’t violent enough for that.

Nor did it look like Mark was the abusive man the media portrayed him as in any of the pictures. If anything, it showed Mark’s gentle and protective side.

The Ferrari driver didn’t see his friend and colleague until the winter tests in February where he’d only have very little time to speak to his colleague.

But when he finally had the time, he approached the Red Bull driver. “Mark? Could I speak to you?”

“Sure. S’up Fernando.” Mark acted all casual, but he was very much aware of the media around them.

“I uhm… just wanted to ask you what’s the truth. You know, from everything that’s been going around.” Alonso said. “I know you wouldn’t do some of those things they say you did, but I just need to know.”

“Yeah.” the Australian sighed. “I’ve been getting that question a lot. But I suppose it’s normal.”

The Spanish man was waiting.

“Truth is, Seb and I’ve been dating for four and a half years, we got together a couple weeks before he turned nineteen. He was already an escort at that point, and I kinda knew this type of slander would probably appear on the internet when we came out.” Webber told. “It was never going to be easy.”

“How did you meet?” the two-time World Champion asked.

“Maybe it’s cliché, but we met at a car repair shop back in two-thousand-and-four.” the Red Bull driver told with a grin. “He was one of the junior mechanics there, just sixteen. I was trying to buy something for my Porsche when he started flirting with me. I was flattered that such a young man would flirt with me and I flirted back. We exchanged phone numbers and things went from there.”

“Weren’t you shocked he was that young?”

“Slightly, but it didn’t quite matter at that point. We became just friends who flirted on occasion. Age wasn’t really a point, until we both started to fall in love.” the Aussie replied. “We even became occasional fuckbuddies on his 18th birthday until we figured out our feelings and became boyfriends.”

“God, Mark! You certainly didn’t let grass grow over it!”

“Nope.” and the hazel eyed man held up his left hand, showing off a plain golden ring.

“Guess I now have to offer my congratulations, no?” the Spaniard asked. “Are you happy?”

“Very.” the taller man said with a face wide grin.

Fernando smiled. “That’s what counts, doesn’t it?”

* * *

_[Winter Break] – Sebastien & Claire Bourdais, Christian Horner, Ann Neal_

Red Bull management decided to do a little photoshoot of their drivers and their spouses the week before the Australian Grand Prix, one neither Bas nor Mark was looking forward to.

Claire frowned when the Australian appeared alone at the studio. “Where’s your husband?”

“Had to change before coming here.” Mark replied before sitting down on the chairs. “He’s coming soon. How’ve you two been during the break?”

“Everything’s been fairly normal, apart being constantly asked about whether I suspected you were even gay.” the Frenchman replied. “They didn’t believe me when I told them I knew all along.”

Webber laughed. “ _Of course_ they wouldn’t believe that a gay driver was honest to his team.”

A door was slammed. “I hope I’m not too late?”

Mrs. Bourdais looked at the person who just entered. Which was Webber’s husband.

The husband wasn’t what she’d pictured him to be. Claire wasn’t quite sure what she’d expected though.

The German wore normal jeans with a white button-up blouse and sneakers, was clean-shaven, had slightly longer curly blonde hair, had extremely dark eyelashes and his blue eyes were focussed on his man.

“Even I just arrived.” and the older racer patted his knee, inviting his husband to sit in his lap.

Seb did sit on Mark’s lap and placed both his hands in his own, showing off both his rings. The engagement ring was sitting just above the golden wedding band on his left ring finger.

“Any idea on what the managers might be planning?” Bas asked.

Webber shrugged. “Not a clue. Maybe something about advertising families in F1, since they asked us to bring our spouses.”

“I guess we’ll see.” the second driver stated.

* * *

Christian had of course seen Sebastian multiple times already, but he was still surprised how different the young escort could make himself look. When the brunet saw the man the first time, he’d clearly just returned from his job and looked confident about his way to seduce men. The second time had been after Brazil, where all eyes had been on Mark after he won his Championship.

And now, the escort was here as Mark’s husband. There was no trace of his actual job, as if he were a stay-at-home husband. That innocent and squeaky-clean did he look in his current outfit.

And in the pictures the photographer took of the married gay couple, Seb made it very much known he now belonged to the 2010 world champion, leaning back into Mark’s chest and letting the camera catch a glimpse of his rings he was wearing.

Webber had told Horner he would marry his boyfriend before the race in Australia. And clearly, that had happened. Horner didn’t know where the pair got married, but many countries where they raced would at least acknowledge the marriage, except for the Islamic countries of course.

That could be a bit of a PR problem, but that was Ann’s business as well as Ecclestone’s.

Ecclestone loved having a gay driver on the grid who was now a World Champion as well. It would give motorsport a better image. No longer was it a white straight men only business anymore, since now both Lewis and Mark didn’t fit that part.

* * *

The 2010 World Champion was happy, it was visible in his eyes as he had an arm wrapped around his husband’s waist.

Ann was proud of Mark. The brunet had followed his heart that had led him to his current husband.

Sebastian was almost _glowing_ with pride. Which the PR manager could understand.

She had advised the couple to appear as casual as possible, as if it was the most normal thing in the world that the pair of them were together and married. And man, they showed their shared love on the pictures.

Neal looked on as the pictures were taken, unable to take her eyes off of Mark’s new husband.

The German native was currently looking like the picture-perfect young husband who could be an actor or a model. And more F1 drivers were often married to models, or had relationships with them, it was something that was found normal in the world of Formula One.

Mark wouldn’t be accepted by all of his colleagues, but the only thing that mattered was the driver’s happiness.

* * *

_[Australia, 2011] – Mark Webber_

Mark felt all-powerful after winning his home Grand Prix in Melbourne. When he climbed out of his RB7, parked at the number 1 board, the Australian crowd was still cheering him on as he punched his fists in the air. He was even happier because he was the first Australian to go up to that podium, and the first Aussie to win on home soil.

Of course, there was booing too and the people at Ferrari looked sour. But then again, the people at Ferrari never looked happy unless they won.

Webber went up to the podium with Lewis and Vitaly. He frowned at the Russian’s behaviour of staying as far away from him as possible, but he shrugged and bumped fists and shoulders with the half-black Briton instead.

“Well defended man, you looked untouchable.” the man from Stevenage said.

“Until the pitstops, that always shakes things up.”

“You still pulled away from me.” Hamilton said and looked at the screens. “Twenty-two point two nine seven seconds… that’s not nothing.”

“Maybe not.” the Red Bull driver said and shrugged as he put on the winner’s cap. “Well, I love to start the season like this. A good start is always nice.”

“True. That’s what everyone wants.”

Then, they were called onto the podium, appearing before the crowd as their name was called.

The crowd was singing the Australian national anthem as it played for their home driver.

When the instrumental songs were done, they were given their trophies and champagne was spilled all over the podium. Not that it mattered, it would be cleaned afterwards anyway.

And it was DC who came out to do the podium interviews.

Vitaly just talked about how this was a good day for Renault, to have a podium again.

Lewis, on the other hand, expressed that he was very happy for his fellow driver as well as for his own team, even if Jenson had only finished sixth in the end.

“And Mark, Goddamnit mate, you fucking did it.” David said, huge grin on his face. “Tell me, how did you pull that one off?”

“I just pushed, and my team did the rest.” the Australian stated. “There’s nothing else I can say about it.”

“And it’s got nothing to do with the fact that you’re on home soil or that ring around your finger?”

Webber laughed as his former teammate pointed out his wedding band and lifted up his left hand to let the cameras catch a glimpse of the ring that now comfortably sat on his left ring finger. “I do feel rejuvenated, if that makes any sense, and I’ve always felt that I should be able to do better than what happened last year. I just went for the win, and I got it in the end. Not that that would have been able without my team.”

“Congrats Mark. On both your wins.” and the Scot winked.

Mark just shook his head.

* * *

The race winner was greeted with a kiss by his husband when he arrived back at his trailer.

“You were amazing, Schatz.” the blonde said, moving his hand through his husband’s dark hair.

“Of course, you would say that to your husband.” Mark said with a grin, returning the kiss as he let his rough hands roam over the smaller man’s body.

The young German pulled at the fabric of his beloved’s race suit. “I want to reward you properly, especially now I am your husband. Get this off and join me on our wedding bed.”

“Of course, my darling.” and the home-grown man stripped out of his race suit and white Nomex layer, leaving him in his underwear as he followed his husband to the bedroom.

Sebastian stripped out of his white blouse and casual jeans. He’d gone commando, just like on their wedding day in early February. He pushed the taller man onto the bed and went onto his knees on the floor before pulling the boxers down and starting to suck his husband’s cock.

It didn’t matter how many times Seb sucked him, it was always just as pleasurable, and Webber was very much entranced by how his husband had no gag reflex.

The Aussie wasn’t a humble man when it came to his sexual prowess, he knew his cock was larger and thicker than average, and he also knew it shouldn’t be a surprise to him that his husband could take him in his mouth or anus so easily since his husband was a prostitute and pleasuring men sexually was basically his job… but it was Seb’s complete devotion and how he worshipped his new husband’s cock that truly turned him on.

He wasn’t one of Seb’s clients, he was Seb’s lover.

“Yes darling, perfect.” he said as his German husband hollowed his cheeks and went up and down the large shaft, occasionally sucking the tip only before bobbing down again.

“I love you, my darling.” the race winner’s voice was getting huskier and his accent thicker as he was getting close to his first orgasm of the night. “You always suck me so perfectly with those lips… I’m gonna come soon darling.”

The escort’s response to that was sucking even harder. He wanted to taste his husband’s seed again.

As the older man came, his younger husband swallowed it all. Not letting go of the cock until he’d sucked ever single drop out.

Mark laid back on the sheets of the bed, basking in the afterglow, when his beautiful young husband climbed on top of him and went with his hands through Mark’s dark hair.

“You’re so beautiful.” the 2010 World Champion whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I know.” Seb said, kissing his man. “I have to go. I’ll see you tonight, and then we can have proper sex.”

“Counting on it, my darling.” and the Aussie kissed his husband once more before he’d leave.

But this time, Seb wasn’t leaving him for a client.

No, Seb had stopped that the second Mark proposed during Christmas. He was still active for his own company, but only as the one arranging the STD tests for his escorts and their clients. He’d become just the CEO. Seb didn’t think it was right to stay active as an escort while he was a married man.

* * *

Sebastian dressed himself properly. In this interview, he was Mark’s husband.

Ann was by his side as they went towards the media tent.

The moment they stepped in; all cameras were on him.

“Miss McKenzie, you may ask your question.” the Aussie woman stated, recorder in hand.

The reporter for the BBC nodded. “Thanks Ann. Shall we go straight into the rumours about the other mister Webber, or would you like to start at the beginning of your relationship?”

“Going straight in would be the best, I think.” the German replied.

The British woman nodded. “Alright. So, has Mark Webber ever forced you into prostitution?”

“No. Becoming an escort was something of my own decision which I already made before my eighteenth birthday.” Seb told.

“But he _has_ been involved with your escort company?”

The blonde nodded. “That is true. He was one of the first to invest in it.”

“Has his investments got anything to do with the direction of your escort company?”

“Mark did advise me in the beginning. He knew there was a larger market in the circles of the rich, spread my cards around… that’s it really.” Sebastian told. “He cared about me then and never stopped. That’s even how I fell in love with him. He’s the most caring man anyone could meet, and I am very happy to be his husband.”

Lee nodded, not posing any other questions.

“Does anyone else wish to ask mister Vettel any questions? Yes?”

“Just one. When and where exactly did you meet Mark Webber?”

“It was in 2004, at a car repair shop.” Seb replied.

“If I may ask, how old were you then?”

The German sighed. “Back then I was sixteen, but I didn’t have any form of sexual relations with Mark until my eighteenth birthday. We both knew I could get Mark in trouble if I wasn’t legal by the law.”

“Is it true that you’ve quit?”

“I am no longer active as an escort, if that is what you’re asking. I am still CEO of my company, and that will stay for a little while longer. I will not stray from my husband’s side, that promise I made to him in our wedding vows.” and that is when he left the media.

“Well done.” Ann said. “Now, you go to your husband, I’m going to finish up.”

Seb thanked the press officer and went to the carpark, where his Aston was standing. It was one of his dream cars, and the first car he bought as soon as it was possible for him to do so with his own money that he’d earned through his job. Maybe later down the line he would buy the next car that was on his list, but he and Mark would have to build more garage space.

He couldn’t wait to be with his husband and celebrate in private together.


End file.
